


For Now

by Akaihyou



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes 100th Birthday Comment Fest, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky's 100th Birthday, Crying, Cryo is sort of like suicide?, Doesn't have to be read as Stucky, Hurt/Comfort, Mixed Emotions, Panic, Steve Rogers Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-04 22:31:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10291685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akaihyou/pseuds/Akaihyou
Summary: Originally posted for the BUCKY BARNES 100th BIRTHDAY COMMENT FEST on Livejournal.Prompt: The Wakandan doctors still have found no way to undo Bucky's conditioning but Steve made Bucky promise that it's okay to get him out of cryo for his 100th birthday.Steve hugs him, careful like Bucky is a balloon and Steve is full of needles.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vaysh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vaysh/gifts).



If the idea didn’t still scare Bucky to the core, he thinks he’d hate Steve right now. All he wants to do is _stop,_ finally, somewhere he’s fairly sure is safe, and Steve is trying to convince him to volunteer for a war again. He’s been fighting the war long enough. All the wars.

Bucky’s been fighting for so long. He can’t do it anymore. Not for anything. Not for Steve. Not for himself. God, if Steve had the faintest idea what the hell inside Bucky’s head looked like. Would he still be asking this of him?

Stevie looks at him in the clean soft white clothes the doctors dressed him in with hurting eyes like Bucky’s wearing a funeral shroud. Like the world has ended and he’s watching the last bit of safe ground crumble away before his eyes.

Dully, Bucky wishes he cared more. He just can’t deal with it, any of it, anymore. Maybe when they wake him something will have changed, something will make things easier.

He honestly doesn’t care if they don’t wake him. Better to go under with the hope but without the expectation.

Bucky’s never had a good awakening from cryo.

“I just don’t want you to miss any more milestones,” Steve says softly. “Don't want to miss any more _with_ you. Come on, Buck, it’s most of a year away. If the doctors here haven’t figured out a way to get rid of the triggers by then, it’ll probably be a good idea to bring out you of stasis anyway for a checkup. We can have a party.”

Eyes on the cryochamber being prepared for him, Bucky snorts derisively. “And just who were you plannin’ to invite, Steve?”

Steve’s jaw tightens for an instant, but Bucky can see the moment he’s forgiven. He always did forgive Bucky too quickly.

Steve says, “I’ll get them out.” Low and certain as only Steve Rogers can be.

His ability to break into a highly secure secret prison isn't what Bucky doubts and Steve knows it.

Bucky shakes his head a little, instantly regretting the action as everything throbs with pain, and says, “You really expect they’ll stick around?’

“Yeah,” Steve says firmly. “I do.”

It’s hard to imagine waking up to light and windows and no chair and Steve. The idea that there could be more people there to greet him willingly, not just to take him down if something sets him off, is novel. It makes him a little anxious. There's a kind of formless inarticulate discomfort in the thought.

He looks at Steve. Steve looks back at him.

“Bucky,” Steve says and Bucky’s not sure how he feels about the way he keeps saying his name. “Tell me no and I'll never ask again. But _please_ , Buck. I need to know I'll see you again.”

 _Pal, you can come_ see _me all you like_ , Bucky thinks wearily. His eyes go back to the chamber. It's got a glass front. Much bigger than the early tanks but less like a display case than the ones in Siberia. It won't matter to him once he’s frozen, nothing will, but it looks more comfortable and inviting than most of the places Bucky can remember sleeping.

Steve correctly reads Bucky’s expression and his own begins to crumple.

And damn it all to hell, but Bucky can't let himself spend his last minutes making Steve cry. Exhausted, Bucky sighs weakly. It always ends in a fight. He doesn't _want_ it to, but he has to face facts and it always does, especially when Steve Rogers is involved.

There's a telltale sheen to Steve’s eyes by the time Bucky brings himself to speak, not certain if he's tasting the ashes of defeat or the bright sweetness of possibility. “Okay, Steve,” he says. Everything still hurts, but he's just going to feel worse if he says no.

The layered disbelief in Steve’s wet shining eyes remains until Bucky adds, “You can bring me out for March 10th.” He doesn't say _for my birthday._

He doesn't say that he's only agreeing because he loves Steve and can't watch him cry.

“Can I hug you?” Steve asks. Steve doesn't say thank you.

Lips twisting, Bucky looks away in the direction of the empty chamber again and says, “Yeah.”

Steve hugs him, careful like Bucky is a balloon and Steve is full of needles. Bucky’s remaining hand twitches, but he can't do more to return the gesture than rest it lightly on Steve’s side. Already, cool numb lethargy is creeping through his veins. He’s nearing the point of no return.

Steve releases him, wipes his eyes, steps away. Behind him, King T’Challa has appeared. He nods soberly at Bucky who nods back. When Steve turns to see, Bucky says, “Go on, Stevie. I’m just sitting here for now.”

And if Steve starts crying in front of him, what goes into the cryochamber might not be the relatively stable version of Bucky sitting here right now.

When Steve comes back he just looks at the chamber and shakes his head a little before saying, “You sure about this?” but he doesn’t really question him again or argue for an earlier release.

 

* * *

 

Waking is worse than freezing. Always. It burns. It hurts. And then he’s cold and confused and still hurting. Always.

Consequently, Bucky is shocked when his first sensation is gentle warmth. It doesn’t hurt to open his eyes, to breathe on his own. He knows his own name.

“Hey, Buck,” says a voice by his ear.

It doesn’t hurt to turn his head.

Steve is lying in the bed next to him, on top of the blanket that is tucked around Bucky. He kisses Bucky on the forehead and smiles. “Happy birthday,” he says.

His breath catches in his throat, just a little hitch before the helpless sobbing takes over. When he twists away so Steve can’t see his face, he discovers that it doesn’t hurt to cry anymore, not physically, and somehow that’s worse. Maybe Bucky had more expectations than he’d admitted to himself before. It’s crushing, the knowledge that he’s out, but not safe, that he’ll have to do it all again, argue with Steve about being put under for longer. Because everything always ends in a fight.

He should have known better than to agree. Should have known he couldn’t handle this.

“ _Bucky_ ,” Steve says urgently. “BUCKY!” It’s clear he’s been trying to get his attention for a while. His hand is on Bucky’s right shoulder.

Bucky lifts his head from the mess he’s made of his pillow. “Steve,” he croaks. His voice works, but he can’t think of anything else to say that won’t end with him screaming.

“It’s alright, Buck,” Steve tries to reassure him. “You’re safe now.”

A broken-glass laugh slices its way out of his chest. “I’m never gonna be safe. I’m sorry. I can’t do this. Put me back, please. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t!” He’s well on his way to screaming already, trapped in a loop of despairing pleas.

Steve is staring at him, reaching to cup his face with his hands. Steve’s lips are moving but the words are meaningless syllables. Bucky’s voice cracks and falls silent.

“Один. Грузовой вагон,” says Steve.

The final words go through him like a shot. He jerks back, tearing himself out of Steve’s embrace, mouth open and moving but unable to do anything but sputter in horror. Is he somehow dreaming in cryo? Will the Avengers offer him a cake and Zemo sing the trigger words over it as the Winter Soldier blows out the candles?

“Bucky?” Steve prompts. Not солдат, thank every God Bucky isn’t quite optimistic enough to believe in anymore.

He’s supposed to respond. He should respond. There’s a correct response. Anything else is wrong, bad, stupid stupid Американский, should know better. He has to respond.

He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say. He doesn’t know what the words mean. He only knows that he’s meant to react to them.

“Oh, thank God,” Bucky breathes, curling into a ball and putting his head between his knees, blocking out the light with his remaining hand. “Oh, God. I thought. I don’t know what I thought. Steve. _Steve Rogers, Steve, my Stevie,_ I know you. I know _me_. I’m not… There’s something I should say but I don’t know what it is so I’m not gonna fucking say it. Thank God. _Steve_.” He reaches out blindly for Steve’s hand and finds it. He pulls it back in, kisses it, and presses their joined hands to his forehead.

“Bucky,” Steve whispers. His other hand rests lightly on Bucky’s back. He can feel the warmth of it through the shirt he’s wearing.

Sometime later, Bucky asks, “Am I fixed?” and doesn’t breathe until Steve says, “Temporarily. Mostly. Something about word recognition. The words won’t really work all the way if you can’t understand them anymore. The current treatment wears off after a couple days, but it’s progress, Buck. You’re safe until tomorrow.” He sounds as certain about it as he ever did about anything. It’s not perfect, but it’s safer than before. Safe enough for now.

He doesn’t ask how long he’s been out or what the treatment is or why he can’t remember. Steve clearly knows what’s going on and that’s enough for now. Safe enough for now. Overwhelmed by it all, Bucky cries a while longer. When he’s done, what he _does_ ask is, “So, I’m an official centenarian and not in a freezer. _Is_ there a party?”

“Yeah,” Steve says. “Everyone’s been waiting for the guest of honor. Think you can put in an appearance, Sleeping Beauty?”

He looks so hopeful, radiating it like a heater under a broken window.

“Nobody better have touched my cake,” Bucky says, but smiles weakly and accepts the hand Steve offers him.

As it turns out, nobody has.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] For Now](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10292540) by [Akaihyou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akaihyou/pseuds/Akaihyou)




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